People say you aren't real, but to me, you're my whole life.
You decide whether I eat and tell me when to sleep.
You're the first person I see when I wake up and the last person I see when I fall asleep.
You choose who my friends are and when I talk to them.
You're the president of a failing government in my head and I'm the leader of the anarchy.
Who's more ungrateful, you or I?
You're the cavern I reside in, but the dark is carnivorous and drains me alive.
Seclusion is your murder tactic.
You're the fence that blocks me off from everything around me.
You don't allow me to talk to anyone unless you unlock the gate and let them in.
Please let them in.
You won't.
You're smart.
You fucking bastard.
YOU ARE READING
the beekeeper.
Thơ caVent Poetry Warning: Strong language Trigger warnings: Schizophrenia Self Harm Abuse (physical, verbal, and sexual) Gore
